


go down easy

by glacecherie



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Face Slapping, Fluff and Smut, Kneeling, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Trans Male Character, Trans Travis Konecny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-07-23 22:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20016121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glacecherie/pseuds/glacecherie
Summary: It's not an insecurity thing, which Travis knows would be everyone's first thought if they knew that he likes to top. That people would just assume he's trying to make up for not having a "real" dick or some other weird assumption. He bristles thinking about it, but he's also made his peace with it.It's not an insecurity thing, he just likes seeing Nolan beg for the simplest touch, get desperate because he doesn't know if Travis will actually let him come. It's a power trip and he revels in it.





	1. Chapter 1

It's not an insecurity thing, which Travis knows would be everyone's first thought if they knew that he likes to top. That people would just assume he's trying to make up for not having a "real" dick or some other weird assumption. He bristles thinking about it, but he's also made his peace with it.

It's not an insecurity thing, he just likes seeing Nolan beg for the simplest touch, get desperate because he doesn't know if Travis will actually let him come. It's a power trip and he revels in it.

▪▪▪

The next time they fuck is after a big win against the pens, and Travis feels Nolan look at him out the corner of his eye throughout their post-win bar crawl. Nolan is stoic and monotone and big, so when Travis ignores the weight of his gaze and he gradually gets more and more blatant about wanting attention in front of everyone, it makes something warm and heavy settle in Travis' belly.

Granted, they're subtle differences. Leaning more into Travis' side, his sharp inhale when Travis squeezes high up on his thigh, not even deigning to spare him a glance, the soft little exhale when Travis squeezes the back of his neck as he goes to get another beer. That one is his favourite. Fuck. He feels molten, like the throb low, low in his stomach is pulsing through his entire body.

He hopes Nolan won't object to him being slightly feral. More feral. Whatever.

▪▪▪

Nolan doesn't.

Nolan gets home, hangs his coat up, and follows Travis to the bedroom without a word. It's a sly way of letting him know how it's going to unfold. No fucking around making out in the hall. Straight upstairs. Strip down to your underwear. Get on your fucking knees.

(Sometimes, he adds crawl to me to the list, but that's not the current plan. Not tonight, at least.)

Travis follows after he's downed a gatorade and splashed his face with water. It takes most of his patience not to sprint up the stairs and jump him, but Travis knows that if he's less reckless, the payoff will be sweeter, and goddamn, he wants it sweeter.

▪▪▪

Nolan stays knelt, facing the bed and good when Travis gets the strap. As hot as it is sometimes to see Nolan mouth at his packer through his underwear, that's no good for what he wants tonight.

He's found a new strap set up recently, without the annoying dangling bits and buckles. This one just slots into a specially designed pair of boxer shorts. The dildo itself looks realistic without having obnoxious bulging veins, and how it's positioned rests against him real good. He could write whatever a sonnet is about how good the fucking thing is.

What it's best at, though, is making Nolan desperate and sweet and his.

▪▪▪

"Come on Nols, you can do better than that." Travis chides, in just the right tone of voice that makes Nolan's face burn an even brighter red. He sinks his mouth down another couple of inches around Travis' cock, choking, and pulls away. His eager boy.

"Go slower, you've no rush." Travis murmurs, thumb rubbing at how his mouth is red and puffy, used looking as he gets his breath.

"No rush? Teeks I wanna come, need it, I wanna feel you in-"

Travis pushes his hair back from his face, shower damp but somehow still with tangles that his hands catch on. Nolan groans like it was on purpose.

"Ready to try again?" He asks, cutting him off, surprised his voice is so steady.

Nolan just parts his pretty lips and mouths at the head of his cock in reply, eyes flashing. His hands are fisted on his knees because his own dick probably aches by now, and the heat of having all that need put aside so he can be good for Travis makes him hiss the next time the strap presses just right against him.

Fuck, he's good.

▪▪▪

Travis comes just barely before Nolan does, pushed fully into him, deep as he can, grinding so it rubs against where they both need it most. He's got one hand on Nolan's hip and the other on his ass, spreading him open to watch him clench as he's nearing orgasm. When Travis strokes his finger around his rim and feels where they're joined, it tips him over. His hips roll as he rides it out, making jarring little thrusts into Nolan even though he's deep as he can get.

"Fuck, fuck, you're so good for me." Travis whispers, not even conciously.

Panting, he snakes his hand under them and gives Nolan barely four slick, tight strokes before he's coming. Being pushed to overstimulation when he's getting fucked really does it for him, it seems. Jesus fucking christ.

▪▪▪

They both collapse afterwards, Travis kissing him gently as he pulls out and wriggles out of the strap, hauling Nolan close until he's panting against his chest. He absently kisses the scar tissue there, and Travis squeezes him, feeling his heart constrict.

"Good for you?" Travis asks innocently.

"Fuck off." Nolan replies easily, yawning.

Because they're terrible, they don't sort the wet spot on the top sheet, just kick it off and get beneath the quilt. They curl up facing each other, and Travis is overcome by the urge to place his hand against Nolan's chest and feel his heart beating, so he does.

Nolan smiles, eyes already closed or else he'd roll them. Travis loves him. He presses a chaste kiss to his lips and joins him in sleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

Travis maybe thrives on being unsubtle, so on the 21st of September, he resolves to make Nolan join him in celebrating the 3rd anniversary of getting top surgery. He draws a banner (postit notes strung together, but it still counts) and everything. He bought actual bougie beer with a fancy label. They order in from an expensive restaurant and eat out of their laps as they watch office re-runs.

"This beer fucking sucks." Nolan says. His hair is wet because he'd not bothered to wring it out, only shake it like a dog when they got in from the rain. It's soaking into Travis' shirt where Nolan's has decided to faceplant. 

"Ungrateful." He says, then takes a long pull.

He grimaces.

"But you're right."

"I'm always right." Nolan says, sleepy like he always is after food. Travis should wriggle free so he doesn't get trapped. 

He doesn't. 

He thinks Nolan has fallen asleep when he speaks again.

"Does it hurt, the scarring? Like I don't wanna touch you and make you feel bad or whatever. I mean, I should have asked before, but. Y'know. " 

Travis rakes his eyes across Nolan's face. He's flushed and it's so endearing he needs a moment so he doesn't reflexively call him a dick.

"Not anymore. It's like - you know that bit on your collarbone, where the scar is numb, but you feel a dull tugging if the skin around it gets pulled?" 

"Yeah?"

"Like that. The rest of the skin is normal. Apart from the bite mark." He says pointedly.

Nolan snorts, ugly, but his voice goes all mumbly, more than usual.

"Can't be blamed for that." He sniffs. "You made me."

The atmosphere changes in a snap, a bolt of heat lazily winding its way down Travis' spine.

"And how the exact fuck did I do that?" Travis says, voice rougher and all honey-sweet, the same tone he uses when he talks Nolan to coming.

It's very gratifying when Nolan chokes at the shift.

"Fuck off."

Travis yanks his hair, pulling his head back until he can make eye contact. Nolan gulps, shuddering and defiant.

"You- you made me wait to come."

Travis tsks. He doesn't let go. 

"Gonna need more than that."

In the half light he can see Nolan push the heel of his hand against his dick.

"Stop touching yourself."

"But -"

"I said don't." Travis murmurs gently, but there's a command in it, something velvet soft threaded with steel. "Now tell me."

"Fuck you. Fucking - jesus christ you're hot, I -" He scowls up, seeing the impatient eyebrow raise directed at him, and tries to think through the fog. "You made me - fuck, god - so desperate when you finally let me fuck you that I bit down without thinking."

"Good boy. Or, you're being good now. You weren't then." 

Travis rearranges them so he's spooning Nolan. He grinds against his ass, just enough of a right angle that he can feel himself get wet. Not as much as pre transition, but if he's really, really turned on it can be fun, on occasion. Lube works wonders when he does want that. At this point he's learnt to accept that dysphoria is a nebulous thing, but his was always more focused on his chest and face, anyway. Perhaps a little on height.

Whatever, so maybe he's a chaotic gay mess, but he has a really hot boyfriend whose chain he knows exactly how to pull, whose stoic exterior he can crumble, whose tone of begging is so much softer than his usual one, almost hurt sounding. He's winning. Also Nolan's even worse than he is. 

"Touch me." Nolan says, snapping him out of his dumb musing. He sounds almost like he didn't mean to say it, like it just came out under his breath. Travis still has his hand threaded through Nolan's hair, and Travis gives it an experimental tug when he leans down to kiss him.

Nolan groans, grinding his ass against Travis' thigh, and it feels good, sends his skin all prickly. An idea forms into his head, makes him feel molten.

"C'mon, upstairs." He says, digging his nails into Nolan's bare hip. 

In any other situation, the way he scrambles would be funny.

▪▪▪▪

Travis pushes Nolan down on the bed and waits until he shuffles back against against the headboard. It's such a shame he's not laid on his front, because Travis wants to know what'd happen if he really, really went to town hitting his ass. He's done it before, a few slaps, and felt the noises Nolan thought he got away with not vocalising properly. Alas, today is not that day.

Nolan makes a whiny sound when Travis sits at the end of the bed, arranging pillows to get himself comfy.

"Dude, get up here. " He pants, hands fisted in the bedding.

Travis rolls his eyes and leans closer. Nolan turns his head, angling for a kiss. He makes an affronted sound when Travis just snags the lube from under the pillow and dumps it in his lap. 

"Finger yourself open." He says, and Nolan's breath catches. 

"What." 

"You heard. I wanna see."

"But -" 

His voice is on the cusp of whiny, and it sends an odd little thrill through Travis.

"C'mon. It's not like you haven't done it before."

Nolan pinks up all down his chest.

"Go on. Get naked and the get to fucking yourself." 

"Wow, subtle. But what the fuck, I want you to do it." Nolan grumbles. "Feels better when it's you." 

He's pulling his clothes off though, so Travis has already won. 

"Tough luck. It's a special occasion. Think of this as a gift."

"Wow, classy."

Travis slaps his thigh, meaning it to sting, feeling gratified when Nolan yelps.

"You should be glad I'm not saying you should do it on your hands and knees, ass in the air. I mean, that's what you usually like, right?" 

"Shut up, shut the fuck up-"

"What, it is. You like it like that, when you look all fucked out. I reckon the real reason is that you like feeling exposed."

Nolan sighs, a lovely shivery thing. He's slicking up his fingers.

"I swear - "

"You don't actually want me to shut up either. You're just saying that to save face."

Nolan spreads his legs, going to push the first finger in straight away, and Travis makes a disapproving noise. 

"C'mon, you have to build up to it."

"Jesus christ!" Nolan gripes, slamming his free hand down on the bed beside him, looking mutinous. Travis stares back coolly, waiting him out. Five seconds. Ten seconds, twelve -

"How?" He asks finally.

"Leave your wet hand where it is" He orders, nodding towards where it's resting high up on his right thigh. "Start under your chin with the other. Run your nails down your throat, all the way down to your chest." 

Nolan rolls his eyes. He does as he's told, and Travis doesn't miss how his nipples perk up, budding. He's sensitive and he's always been embarrassed about it. 

"Now what?" He asks, and it's fascinating how the defiance is leaking out of his voice. 

"Touch your nipples. Circle around them first. Really light. Barely touch at all."

"Okay. Okay, okay-" Nolan whispers. His exhale is a shudder. 

"Rub over them with your thumb. Pinch each one." 

He makes a little bitten off noise, and Travis is suddenly struck by an image of him in clamps, Travis sunk down on his dick, pulling the chain each time he rises, pulling his hair with the other.

"I didn't tell you to stop. Do it over and over." 

Making him be still. Using him to get off and leaving him like that just to look at for while, come splattered across his abs, chain loose and snaking between his pecs. Waiting. 

Nolan pushes up into nothing and Travis snaps out of it and tuts, pushing him down with his hand low on his stomach, purposely close enough to his dick that he can feel his body heat, but not touching. 

"Stop. Do the same to your thighs. Pinch right at the top. Dig your nails in harder."

Nolan's dick twitches. 

"Oh, baby. Desperate already?"

Nolan whines. Some mean bit of Travis wants to needle at him and torment him until he breaks properly, tearful. Maybe some other time.

"Shut up." He says. "Shut up, god -" 

"Do it harder." 

Nolan does. He's got precome pooling on his stomach now. Travis wants to smear it into his skin and push his fingers into his bitten red mouth. 

"You're really getting off on this, eh?"

Nolan nods, borderline frantic now. Travis rubs his thumb over his kneecap.

"Please - please." He mutters under his breath. If Travis wasn't on a power trip before, he is now.

"Your fingers. I need -"

Travis kisses the rest of the sentence away, shuffling until he's knelt up between Nolan's spread legs, enjoying the novelty of being taller than him, sort off. He tugs Nolan's hair to make him look up. Fuck, he's gorgeous. The mean bit of him resurfaces, ideas more vivid, wanting to see if he could push him a little more. Edge him until he wept. Hook two fingers in the chain around his neck and pull it taut, not choking, just to see what it'd look like. To see if he'd yield to the tug of it. Slap his face. Fuck. 

"Okay," He murmurs, trying to clear his head, because his boy deserves everything. "Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absolutely nobody: ...
> 
> Me, a gremlin: NOLAN PATRICK IS WHIPPED AND YOU CAN'T CHANGE MY MIND


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, Nolan says it when they fucking. Rarely, but nothing on earth makes TK preen and/or meltdown quite like it.
> 
> Most memorable is when he's had Nolan right on the edge of coming for what - even for his standards - has been a while, because it's fun to see him desperate sometimes. Like, it's not a thing. TK isn't a cruel person, but sometimes he just. Is.
> 
> It's probably best he doesn't look into that too much, but nothing feels quite as power-trippy and rewarding as managing to eke what can only be described as a whimper from Nolan. He doesn't even mean to be mean, but like he said. Sometimes he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bottoman!nolan or death, and that's the tea.

The first time Nolan had been all " _haha dude I love you_ " had been when he hit his head real hard on the edge of the coffee table. Like, not even during a game, not some par for the course concussion shit. He'd been trying to reach the remote control without heaving his body off of the sofa, and slipped off it, and there was a loud _clunk_.

"You're a fucking dumbass." Travis had said, maybe wiping the tiny cut it made a little too hard. "Like jesus christ dude, you fucking _suck_." and then - after a confusing second of wanting to lick the blood off his hand - "you're done. Do you need to go to ER or?"

Nolan had shaken his head and winced and pressed into his touch. Travis wanted to punch him in the thigh or something, because he wasn't built to experience more than one emotion at a time. He'd settled for mother-henning him to bed.

"Thanks. Love you." Nolan'd said, drowsy. TK wanted to like, smother him with a pillow.

"I want to smother you with a pillow." He'd replied.

Nolan had smiled at him, all sleepy-soft, and what the fuck, he'd no right. He didn't deserve rights at all. One of these days he'd put Nolan into a giant sack and drive him out into the woods and dump him there. _Fuck_. He'd not been freaking out about how constantly attractive Nolan was, he just hated him.

"Night Teeks." Nolan mumbled, because he always fucking mumbles like the big, constantly attractive dumbass he was. "Wait, you're staying right?"

TK had wanted to bite his mouth and neck. Until like, he'd wince, and TK had to hold him still even though he didn't really want to get away at all. But maybe not when he was possibly _maybe_ mildly concussed.

He'd sighed.

"Yeah, I fucking guess."

So he'd brushed his teeth and climbed in and let Nolan wriggle about until he could rest his leg against TK's and hadn't even mocked him for it. It'd been the most damning evidence thus far that he'd been in way over his head.

-

TK had said it back a few months later, drunk as fuck, and then shoved him up against the hotel room wall to kiss him. He'd been worried, obviously. Real worried. Hence having chosen to drink neat whisky even though it made him gag. The kiss, and the whisky, were _morning TK'_ s problem he figured at the time.

Then Nolan had slouched down the wall enough that TK didn't strain his neck to nip his jaw, and he'd worried a lot less.

-

The surprising thing here is that Nolan says it _more_ than he does, despite speaking a lot _less_. He thinks he's all cool and monosyllabic, but TK's got his number. He's just an awkward little bitch that _unfortunately_ TK is in love with. His mom keeps smiling indulgently when he drags Nolan to meet his family. It's infuriating, because Nolan's portatrying himself as some polite, nice boy, with combed hair, and good posture, instead of the man that called TK a shitbird earlier when he missed throwing a food wrapper into the trash can because they were both too lazy to get out of bed.

-

Sometimes, Nolan says it when they fucking. Rarely, but nothing on earth makes TK preen and/or meltdown _quite_ like it.

Most memorable is when he's had Nolan right on the edge of coming for what - even for his standards - has been a _while_ , because it's fun to see him desperate sometimes. Like, it's not a thing. TK isn't a cruel person, but sometimes he just. Is.

It's probably best he doesn't look into that too much, but nothing feels quite as power-trippy and rewarding as managing to eke what can only be described as a whimper from Nolan. He doesn't even mean to be mean, but like he said. Sometimes he is, and edging Nolan is fun because it's so easy to push him from frustration to defiant to saying Travis' name like it's something holy.

And it's just - he hadn't known there was a level beyond that desperation, because goddamn, that alone was enough to make him wanna say _fuck_ and shove one of his hands down his own underwear.

But he hadn't.

He'd stuck with it, watching Nolan's face, his scrunched up eyes and even more patchy cheeks and lip nearly bitten split. He dug his fingers into Nolan's hip, worrying at the old bruises there, and Nolan's stomach had jumped. When TK curled his fingers a little more, pressing harder in just the right spot inside him he'd whined and it was so easy to get lost in, so _addictive_ , that it caught him off guard when Nolan hauled him down to kiss.

He gazed down between fucking his tongue into Nolan's mouth and panting against it. He couldn't see where Nolan was stretched open around his fingers, but he could see the muscles shift under the skin of his forearm as he spread them apart.

Nolan jammed his head into the crook of Travis' neck and made a gorgeous, bitten off, hurt noise, like he was purposely trying to hide his face and smother the effect TK was having on him, like that wouldn't make TK just try _harder_.

So he'd kissed him again and kept his eyes open to watch the spread of Nolan's legs, the shiny pool on his abs where his dick was leaking enough it was on the verge of smearing down his ribs, and he'd pushed another finger into him. Plenty slick, still. Three shallowly fucking him open, and letting his free hand brush down Nolan's jaw, over his throat, lingering enough that it made Nolan say it. _Fuck, I love you. Fuck. Please, I love you, please baby, please -_

It had short circuited him, and he'd kissed him nearly frantic, not sure why it affected him so goddamn much, but it did. He didn't want the long, sweet, beutal moment to end.

It had, because he'd jerked Nolan off soon after, feeling him clench and sob and come, sounding nearly broken. He'd pressed his fingers into Nolan's mouth after and ground against his thigh until he came, watching the pink of his tongue clean off his own come, opening his mouth when he was done, like he was showing him. _Look, I swallowed. Aren't I good._

"Jesus fucking _christ_." He'd said afterwards. He never claimed to be an eloquent man.

-

The most recent time Nolan has said I love you is when TK clears a possum out from behind the trash can, because Nolan is a big baby.

"It was hissing!" Nolan said, like that meant something.

"Hiss back, then." TK said.

Nolan cooked his head at him.

"Wait, does that work?"

Travis laughed enough that he dropped the broom he'd used to clear off the offending animal.

" _Holy shit._ I was kidding. Holy shit -"

"What the fuck, I _love_ you, I trusted you!"

TK is absolutely going to publicly chirp him for this in front of the team later, when he stops cackling and being in his feelings. Nolan can't say shit. It's how (in addition to actually saying it back) he shows _his_ love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I deanoned. How do you do fellow gremlin fans, please follow me on tumblr @klenovvy, where all three of my top posts are calling nolan patrick a bitch.


	4. small, shuddering things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Same as before. You're not allowed to move, even when I'm doing this. Even when I've got my thigh pressed against your dick-" He slides his leg up and flush to him "-like this, got it?"
> 
> Nolan nods, and tilts his jaw.
> 
> Travis slaps him, not playful anymore, and Nolan sounds like he's been hit in the stomach. He does it again.
> 
> Nolan is taking breaths in short, shuddering things.
> 
> "Jesus, you're fucked up, baby." He says under his breath and Nolan nods, like yeah, I am, I know, do it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so APPARENTLY I can't stop writing these two gremlins. And I oop-

Nolan subluxates two of his fingers on his dominant hand and falls heavy on one of his knees real early in the season, and when he's finally given the all clear from hospital he's grinding his teeth so hard that Travis can hear it as he drives them home.

"Stop that." He says, slowed to nearly a stop in traffic. Nolan ignores him.

"Dude I'm serious, you'll give yourself a migraine and you'll be a bitch about that too."

Silence. He's just staring straight ahead, lips drawn thin. Travis rolls his eyes and slaps his thigh.

"Ow, what the _fuck_ is wrong with you?" He yelps, then angrier: "Can't you just leave me the fuck be? Do you have to fuss? Jesus christ!"

"Yeah, someone's gotta." Travis says calmly.

"Everyone has been all _gentle voiced_ and _are you okay_ like I'm fragile, or a kid that needs his mom! Even Claude did some sometimes shit happens speech at me, which by the fucking way, I didn't need, and -"

Travis let's him vent, because he knew really, there'd be some frustration build up like this. Speculation about him being injury prone doesn't help.

"- and also they didn't even give me GOOD medication because I don't feel entirely detached from my body, and it fucking SUCKS."

Travis very gently grabs his hand where he's flexing his hurt fingers like he can unfuck them that way.

"That's because you haven't taken your dose. It's due."

"... _Great_ , so now I'm useless at literally taking pain medication too."

They still haven't fucking moved, and Travis squeezes Nolan's knee where he's jigging it up and down.

"I love you, but you need to find your singular brain cell and figure out it isn't your fault. It was a mild subluxation, you just need to ice it a bunch and keep it splinted. And your knee is just bruised."

Nolan makes a frustrated grunt and necks his pills.

"Good boy." Travis murmurs, teasing, and watches the complicated flicker of expressions where he's not quite sure whether to be pissy or slightly turned on or both. He settles for grumbling under his breath and slumping down in his seat.

"If these are any good, you'll be sorry. You'll have to haul my ass out the car when we get home."

"Keep being so pissy and I'll leave you in the car without a second of hesitation." He says easily. Out the corner of his eye he sees a flicker of a smile and he keeps his hand on Nolan's leg.

Eventually the traffic moves, and within five minutes, Nolan is slumped against the window, exhaustion finally setting in. TK kinda wants to kiss his really dumb looking ugly face, but whatever. He's driving. He's still inordinately bitter he can't, though.

-

A week later, he's nearly healed, fingers achey but functional, and he's back to being his _normal_ little bitch self instead of being a _depressed_ bitch. Travis presses up against him when he's shaving off his fucking gross depression stubble.

He jumps, more for show than anything,

"Fucking christ, do you want me to cut my throat."

Travis snorted at him running his hands down his chest and squeezing him. Sometimes he was just like...hot, and Travis had to do something so he didn't go mad.

"Stop being a drama queen and let me have my fun." He'd said, face smoothed against Nolan's back. They don't have time to fuck before they have to be at the airport, but Travis is horny and Nolan has no right to be this way whilst shaving off his ugly "moustache".

"Not my fault you look good." He groans, fingers curling around Nolan's waist, pale imitation of how he really wants to touch him, all affection and roughness. The porcelain of the sink is pressed against his hips and Travis doesn't mean to be hit with the fantasy of bending him over just a little more so it'd put a bruise on him if he fucked him like this, but here he is. He wonders how much more touching it'd take for him to be too gone to carry on shaving. How much it'd take to get him so desperate that he'd watch himself get off in the mirror, how only then he'd see exactly what a slut he looks like.

He wonders if he can convince Nolan to let him give him a handy on the plane.

-

He cannot convince Nolan to let him give him a handy on the plane.

Travis jabs his fingers into Nolan's bruised knee, and Nolan tries to bite him in like, a _not_ sexy way.

Travis squabbles with him and says too loudly that he is the biter, not bitee.

Ivan, sat across from them, makes a show of plugging his earphones in.

-

They win their next game, end up colossally drunk, and Travis' sick dance moves go - _once again_ \- unappreciated.

When then finally get in, Nolan is in his _Weird Introspective Drunk Mode_ instead of his usual _Dumbass Drunk Mode._

Travis squints at him when they're jostling for space at the sink.

"What you thinking of?"

Nolan pauses.

"Do you ever think about what'll happen, when we're retired? Older?"

"I mean, we'll be retired and older? Oh _fuck_ , is this the do you want to get married and get a dog and have a kid talk? Shit, man. Warn a guy."

Nolan looks a little stung.

"It doesn't matter." He grunts, and begins brushing his teeth far too passive aggressively to be normal.

"Hey c'mon, I didn't mean it like that. I'm not an asshole I swear."

That earns him a scathing look, which, _fair_.

"Okay look-" He slaps his own cheeks like he's psyching himself up. "- totally ready, shoot your shot, babe."

Nolan rolls his eyes and spits, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand even though there's a towel right there. _Animal_.

"Well - would you? Honestly?"

"I've literally never seen this side of you, this is so weird. How much of you is this taking- hey stop grinding your teeth again, I'm joking. I dunno. Haven't thought about it, but sure. Not opposed. Can understand why you wanna hitch your wagon to all of this. _Next_."

"You're such a - fuck, fuck you. I don't know. Like, I knew Claude had dogs and wanted kids and now him and Ryanne are having one, a real one, and it's so weird? And hard not to think of? And also my mom?"

"Your mom what, wants a piece of this too?"

Nolan laughs, less tense. He punches Travis in the arm.

"My mom loves you. But don't get a big head. Also she's like, fully instated you as on of the family already and that made me think too. Like, the future is scary sometimes. But I want it to be with you, fuckhead."

"Oof. You're such a romantic. You've really got me going."

"I take it all back." Nolan says, snippy.

"No you don't. I want the future with you too, dumbass." Travis replies, easy. "And I don't know, dogs, kids, cats? Cats might be cool first, start small and work up. I was friends with 6 barn cats growing up."

Nolan twitches.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I'm said I love you and we should get a cat and _MAYBE I WOULDN'T MIND PUTTING A KID IN YOU!"_ He yells, because he's an asshole.

Through the wall, he hears Carter go " _jesus fucking christ"._

Nolan shoves him off the bed, and Travis cackles.

-

They don't fuck that night, mostly because Travis falls asleep between telling Nolan he is a total master at plaiting hair (He doesn't know how they got to that topic - maybe telling the story of befriending the farm cats and having to look after his kid cousins) and doing said plait.

It looks like a rat's tail.

His head feels weirdly not hungover, but he's still tired, so he fumbles to undo the horrible rat king twist and then dozes again.

-

When he finally awakens properly, he's plastered against Nolan's back, one arm around his chest and the other on his thigh. He's so fucking warm, and Travis wants to _bite_ him.

"Cling more." Nolan says, and Travis can feel the vibrations of his voice through his back.

"I can try if you want." He replies, and Nolan snorts.

"Like you could even _attempt_ -"

Travis wraps his other arm around him, and a leg too for good measure, and climbs on him. Nolan attempts to throw him off and fails, mostly because he's got the reflexes of slug pre-coffee. Travis bites his arm and whilst he's distracted and saying something about _needing a rabies shot,_ straddles him.

Maybe his mental wires are crossed and playfighting _shouldn't_ get him going so much, but here he is. Maybe he also winds Nolan a little by sitting on him, but that's his problem.

Between catching one breath and the next, Nolan sinks his hands into Travis' hair and yanks him down to kiss. It's rough and slick and sends his skin all prickly and Travis grabs at Nolan's nape and digs his thumb hard into the hinge of his jaw to get him to open up. _Fuck_.

The brush of their tongues is harsh, and Travis wants to leave marks, to leave proof. Nobody gets to see Nolan all fucked out and adoring when he sucks on Travis' fingers, sheets a crumpled mess beneath him, but they can see bruises and lovebites. He sinks his teeth into Nolan's lip and increases the pressure until he makes a soft noise, the grip of his fingers on Travis' back slackening, then scrabbling to hold on again.

He's so easy some of the time that Travis hardly feels he deserves to preen, but he will anyway. He licks at the indent of his teeth, sucks, and Nolan jerks like a shock was put through him.

" _Good_." He murmurs, praise slipping out, power trip mixing with love and want and - it's a lot. He needs more. "That's so good, go on, relax."

He does as he's told with a little sigh, slumping down til he's laid flat, hands palm up by his side. _Fuck_.

Travis kisses him again, bites the same spot, fucks into his mouth with his tongue. He rearranges himself so that he's got a leg slotted between Nolan's and presses down. When he pushes Nolan's head to one side and bites again, his hips jerk.

Travis pulls back, and slaps him on the cheek lightly.

" _Don't_." He says, grinning at him dumbly, not expecting him to listen.

He doesn't mean for it to be a _thing_ thing, no more than as an extension of their playfighting, but -

Nolan _moans_ , blinking up at him in a daze. He _nods_. Travis feels feral. The bite on Nolan's lip looks redder than the rest of his mouth, like it might bleed.

Travis feels the switch flip to something heavier, quieter. God.

"Don't move unless I tell you, okay?" He whispers.

"Fuck - _fucking hell,_ okay. Love you, fuck -"

Travis goes in again, not even kissing him, just biting where he bit before and tugging his lip. Is it advisable? Probably not. Does he get a weird _thrill_ when he tastes metal and Nolan straight up whimpers? Yeah.

Back to marking up somewhere more visible. Like _yeah_ , they're gonna get shit from the team, but they get shit for that anyway. This way anyone that looks at him will know that someone laid claim to him. He nips at the soft spot beneath his ear and sucks. He bruises easy. It's a blessing. Fuck, it feels good, almost better than the throb between his legs. Maybe later he'll pin Nolan's hand down and ride his fingers, but for now he'll concentrate on picking Nolan apart, seeing how easy he is.

He scrapes his teeth further down Nolan's throat, skating his hand all the way from his thigh to where his lips are pressed and closes his hand around his throat. Neither of them are into choking, but the feel of Nolan swallowing under his palm is intoxicating. He wants to get drunk off this boy.

Muttering infrustration when he gets to the collar of Nolan's sleep shirt, he pushes it up until it's bunched under his arms. Maybe he has a fleeting thought about making a set of teeth marks indent the skin directly over his heart, maybe not. He kisses Nolan's breastbone and thumbs at a nipple until it perks up, then he rubs in little circles. Nolan fucking _moans_ , long and low. Travis can feel him shaking.

He pinches, and Nolan's hips lift off the bed with a yelp .

Travis straightens, looking down at him coolly as he drops back to how he was supposed to lay.

He blinks open his eyes pretty and green-blue, pupils huge.

"Fuck, sorry -"

Travis slaps him across the face, properly this time.

"Jesus fucking -" Nolan spits. His hands clench hard in the bedding.

Travis presses at the hand print he's left behind and Nolan takes a desperate breath. Travis feels drunk now, not hungover.

"Again?" He asks. _Please say yes,_ he thinks.

Nolan nods, and Travis grinds on his thigh unabashedly. _Perfect boy. Pretty thing he wants to make cry._

He pinches at his nipples again and this time Nolan whines, but stays still.

"Same as before. You're not allowed to move, even when I'm doing this. Even when I've got my thigh pressed against your dick-" He slides his leg up and flush to him "-like this, got it?"

Nolan nods, and tilts his jaw.

Travis slaps him, not playful anymore, and Nolan sounds like he's been hit in the stomach. He does it again.

Nolan is taking breaths in short, shuddering things.

"Jesus, you're fucked up, baby." He says under his breath and Nolan nods, like _yeah, I am, I know, do it again._

Travis feels the heat start to pool in his belly. He's hard and wet all at once. He had a dream a couple of months ago where he let Nolan fuck his thighs and had him lick up the mess when he'd finished, all reverent and come dumb. He grinds down harder, slaps again.

"Fuck, _more_ please." Nolan all but whispers. It's a rush.

He switches to his other cheek.

 _Slap_.

"Greedy. Could you get off like this, would you? Would you come in your boxers like a fucking teenager from having your pretty nipples played with and your face hit?"

Travis is basically rolling his hips non-stop right now, one thigh rubbing the fabric of Nolan's underwear against his dick.

 _Slap_.

"What if I said don't come, sweetheart? Think you could handle that?"

Nolan looks torn and it makes Travis presses down even harder from the first tell-tale sparks he feels, licking heat low down in his belly.

He ducks and kisses him. Hearing his stuttered breaths up close drives him fucking crazy. Shit, jesus, he's gonna come soon.

"See, I'm gonna come, baby. But you might not. Might just use you and leave you. How's that feel?"

Travis shudders sharply. Fuck, he's nearly there.

Another slap, gentler. His poor boy feels like he's hanging on my the skin of his teeth.

"Good, no - _bad_ \- I. I don't _know_ , please -" He says, sounding on the brink of tears, and _wow that's -_

That's what does it for him. He squeezes his thighs as tight around Nolan's as hard as he can and rolls his hips down hard, pinching Nolan's nipples again because the sounds he makes just get him off harder. It feels like warmth and sparks through his whole body, _fuck fuck, fuck -_

He falls forward, trembling and wild. Bites the red hand mark on Nolan's cheek, tastes salt. Hears him beg _please, please Travis, please_ and -

Jesus fuck, there really are tears tracking down his cheeks.

"Fuck, you're good. You're so _good_. You've done so _well_ , baby. Yeah, you can come, come on. Rub off against me. No shame in it, you've taken it so well, come on, let go. _Come for me, sweetheart."_

One shuddery inhale, two, and it's like he can't stop his hands coming up off of the bed, one around Travis' nape, the other clutching at the back of his tee, moaning desperately as he comes, grinding up hard as his fingers bite into Travis' shoulder. His stupid hair is stuck to his face when Travis kisses him, mindless little pecks, rubbing their cheeks together. Their legs tangle and Travis wonders if Nolan's stupid bony kneecap will put a bruise on the inside of his like it'd done previously.

He kisses Nolan's jaw, the outline his hand left, and unplasters the strands of hair sweat-stuck to his face. One of his hands brushes the side of Nolan's throat accidentally and he flinches, pressing them together tighter and making them both groan with oversensitivity. Travis laughs because he's too lazy to separate them and Nolan's breath is tickling his throat, head tucked close.

" _Fuck_." He says.

Travis grunts in agreement.

"You okay?" He says after a beat, because Nolan is shaking, just a little, more clingy than usual. He makes a happy sound when Travis trails his fingers down his arm.

"Yeah, you're okay." He mutters, more to himself than anyone, and squeezes Nolan closer.

-

Travis showers first, because Nolan fell asleep on him like a deadweight as soon as they disentangled themselves, laying his head on Travis' chest and grumbling that it was too uncomfortable and giving Travis a _look_ until he got him a pillow. Fucking _spoilt_.

He showers again when Nolan wakes up, because maybe he's feeling clingy too, or maybe he wants to examine the little crescent nail marks on on Nolan's back, or maybe both. _Whatever_. They're both whipped for each other and they're both only like, _semi domesticated,_ and that's just fine by him.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a birthday gift for someone, but I figured it may as well be posted here! Thanks for reading so much! Let me know what you think! ♥♥♥


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